


Nothing in the World

by indecisivelyindependent



Category: Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M, and a teensy bit of fluff, and anger, and the bath of emotion, swearing because it happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisivelyindependent/pseuds/indecisivelyindependent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of the party. An interpretation of the impending doom of Act 4, Scene 1, as it plays out in the lives of Beatrice Duke and Benedick Hobbes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing in the World

**Author's Note:**

> I love, love, love what greatestvoyagehistoryofplastic did with this scene in her fic "Kill Claudio". Here is another take on the same. I attempted to keep the dialogue as true to lines 254-329 as possible, so you can follow along in "Much Ado about Nothing" if you'd like! (Really, I mostly just wrote this because I am dying for a scene with Ben and Bea in the Bath of Emotion together...) All characters and content derive from the lovely Candle Wasters and the Bard himself.

**Nothing in the World**

_I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is that not strange?_ ~ Benedick, Shakespeare’s “Much Ado about Nothing” 

* * *

 

Beatrice closed the door to Hero’s room, turned off the lights in the hallway, and went downstairs to clean up the remains of the party. It was late and she was emotionally dead inside, but there was no possible way she’d be able to fall asleep tonight. Not with Claudio out there spreading his wicked, wicked lies.

Fuck boys and their evil, evil souls _._

Music was still playing in the living room, something soft and romantic that Hero had added to the birthday playlist just yesterday. The cake was still on the kitchen table, forgotten amidst the tableau of horror. There were two plates and two forks lying on the counter, though, and Ben stood next to the sink, rinsing out glasses and pausing every so often to build castles out of the soap bubbles.

Bea didn’t know how to let him know that she was there, staring at him from the doorway. She also realized that her legs were barely able to function anymore. Who knew that the nervous system could be so affected by a person’s emotional state? She half-walked, half-fell towards one of the chairs and he turned, looking concerned. He’s a boy, damn him. He shouldn’t be concerned.

“How is she?” he asked, wiping his hands on the dishtowel and coming to sit next to her.

Bea attempted a laugh and ended up burying her face in her hands.

“Maybe I should rephrase that,” he said with a grimace. “How are you?”

“Ha. How do you think?” Her arms muffled her voice and her forehead was on the table, but she knew he could hear her. Damn it, he probably knew this was coming. He had probably been in on it the whole time.

“Beatrice. Talk to me.” She could hear the hesitancy in his voice, and it hurt. It hurt to hear that he was afraid of _her_.

“What do you care?” It came out harsher than she meant it to, but they had always been like that. Sticks and stones.

“Look, I know what you think of me, and I know that I can be a dick, but not right now. I know Hero better than that.”

“If you really thought that-“

“I do. You know I do. Look at me.”

She raised her head, looking him straight in the eyes for the first time in months. And she could see it there. He was serious.

“Ben-“

“What do you need me to do?”

Oh god, he was _that_ serious _._ “You can-“ she hiccupped, and felt bile rising in her throat.

 _You can go to hell_ , Claudio had screamed at Hero _._

Bea barely made it to the toilet in time, the upstairs one so Leo wouldn’t have to hear her, the tears streaming down her face as she dry heaved. She closed her eyes when she heard Ben’s footsteps come into the bathroom. Of course, this is how they would have their first real conversation in four years. Sick in the toilet, after Ben's best friend calls her cousin a whore. Of course.

She felt Ben’s hand gingerly touch her back, reaching up to hold her hair away from her face. He was being so gentle with her. It was almost worse than the constant verbal spears that she had put up with ever since that first summer. At least she knew how to fight back against those. Gentleness, she didn’t know what to do with that.

Bea hiccupped again, and he stood up to get her a washcloth. She wiped her face, scrubbing harder than she had to, hoping to get rid of whatever this night had become. Hell. Go to hell. God, was it ever going to stop?

She sat back on the tile floor, and turned her head to see that Ben had climbed into the tub. She rolled her eyes at him, and he grinned, just a tiny grin. But something turned over in her stomach, and the tears slowed just a bit. What was it about this boy and the bath?

“Come on. Get in the bath and tell ol’ Ben your grand master plan for getting out of this shithole.” He quirked his eyebrows and she gave in, sitting next to him with their backs against the wall, legs draped over the edge of the bath. His hand was dangerously close to hers, not that she was noticing those kinds of things right now.

“A plan that you most _definitely_ shouldn’t be a part of,” she said without thinking.

“And what if I want to be a part of it, despite what you think?” Ben’s voice was quiet, so quiet, and she didn’t know what to do. That tangle of knots in her stomach was unraveling, she could feel it, and Ben was right there and all she wanted to do was reach over and touch his hair. His hair? Oh god. Insanity. Life had become insanity.

She sighed. “Maybe I do want you to be a part of it.”

“Bea, I know that you-“ he started at the same moment she said, “I was wrong, Ben. You-“

And all of a sudden, he was holding her hand. Holding hands in the bath? What the hell?

And just like that, his eyes crinkled up in a smile. “Oh god. I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Shit. What was going on? Her secondary worry was that Hero was going to wake up and walk in on them. Sleep, Hero. Please.

“I know. It’s crazy and insane, but apparently, the world is going to hell tonight anyway. So here we are, holding hands in the bath.”

He was right. Stranger things had happened, and stranger things could have happened.

“Well, at least you’re not using your Batman voice this time.”

He smirked, a full-on-Ben-smirk this time. “I thought girls liked that sort of thing. Man of mystery, defeating evil, saving the world.”

She smiled a little. “I like your Ben voice much, much better.”

His eyebrows went up. “Why, Beatrice, I do believe you just complimented me.”

“Maybe I did.” Now she was blushing, which made him reach out and pull at the ends of her hair. His voice got quiet again.

“Bea, tell me what you need me to do.”

She sighed, and rubbed her eyes with the hand that wasn’t currently under Ben’s possession.

“Tell Claudio to get the hell out. Out of my life, out of Hero’s life, and out of our school. Push him off the fucking cliff. Burn his house down. I don’t care. Just make him disappear, and make him hurt like hell.” The last sentence came out in a whisper, but she needed him to realize how serious she was. How Hero would never, ever be able to move on if there was no way up and out.

The pressure of his hand lessened a little, and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Fine. You know, whatever. I need sleep.” She tried to get up without using him for balance, but only managed to hit her head against the back wall.

“Bea, wait. Wait.” He tugged her back down, and somehow she ended up half on his lap, half off, with her head awkwardly leaning against his shoulder. Taller than he looked and more muscle-y... Stop it, Bea. Focus!

“All of this… None of this is right.” She tried to push off him, but his arm came around her waist and she was stuck there. Stuck in a bath on Benedick Hobbes’ lap. Meg would say that it’s taking too long to get our clothes off… No. No thoughts. No thinking.

“Bea-“

“Let me go, Ben. Just… Let me go.” But she didn’t try to move. She was rather immobile.

“We need to talk first.”

“Okay. We can talk. But if you won’t tell Claudio to fuck off, I don’t see the point.”

“You really think Claudio is the enemy here?”

She glared at him, pushing off his chest so she could look him in the eye. “You watched what happened downstairs tonight and you _dare_ to ask me whether Claudio is my _enemy_? My cousin just cried herself to sleep, her brother thinks she’s a whore, and the whole school is going to be talking about this for the rest of the year, next year too, probably, and you think I don’t want to fucking kill Claudio right now?” The tears were welling up in her eyes again.

“Beatrice-“

“He’s an asshole.” She started to sob.

“Shh-“ His arms came up around her.

Bea couldn’t stop, though. “He said Hero was _selling herself_ , Ben!”

“Bea-“ Ben started running his fingers through her hair, and she could hardly think.

“If I could, I would stick a fucking knife in his heart and then see who he calls a whore.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, I do have some morals. And parents.”

“Bea, stop. Saying shit like that isn’t going to help Hero. Or yourself. Or me.”

She sighed. Benedick Hobbes was if nothing else the voice of reason. “Then help me _do_ something, Ben, so I don’t have to talk anymore.”

He touched her chin so that she had to look him in the eyes. “You really think that all this is Claudio’s fault?” he asked.

“Yes.” She had never been surer of anything else.

“Okay.” Ben climbed out of the bath and reached for Bea’s hands to pull her up. Once out of the tub, he brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll figure something out. It probably won’t involve knives or fire or cliffs, but I’ll make sure he’ll never be able to do anything to hurt Hero,” he paused, and his voice quieted. “Or you. Ever.”

He turned and walked towards the doorway, but before he could get there, Bea reached out and grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her. She took a step forward, closed her eyes, and kissed his cheek.

“I think you missed, love,” Ben winked at her. “Aim better next time.”

It wasn't until twenty minutes after the front door closed behind him that Bea was finally able came up with a worthy comeback.


End file.
